The waiter could have been a Generation Y distant cousin to the actor, Bill Murray. His slightly disheveled appearance enhanced the charm of his dimpled smile. Pointing to the menu at Le Yaca French Restaurant, I artfully directed his gaze to the Chef’s Special: Seafood Trio. “Would you mind saying this ‘en Français?'”, I appealed. Nodding his head in approval, the impeccable foreign accent rolled off his tongue with savior-faire. I smiled in open delight. The slight blush of flattery rushing across his face into his freshly starched shirt unveiled the frequency of such a request.
Classical French music filled the formal dining room creating subtle ambience for a romantic dinner with my husband. Over his shoulder, beyond the foyer, hypnotic flames danced across fragrant firewood logs nestled on the glowing hearth. We clinked our glasses together and dubbed the evening “Manhattan by Candlelight”. I sipped on a classic Southern cocktail garnished with a maraschino cherry, straight-up. The graceful curve of the martini glass offered an invitation to taste the amber blend of smooth-bodied bourbon kissed with a dash of sweet vermouth. Gerald quenched his thirst with one of the greatest mixed drinks ever created by a seasoned bartender, the Long Island Iced Tea. A stouthearted choice, my dear. The savory dinner was served divine. We lingered over dessert, relishing every bite of the lightly sweetened soufflé.
Ultimately, the pleasant experience was truly unforgettable. Lovely.
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Can you believe it that I couldn’t eat all the food. It wasn’t because the food was not fantastic because it was unbelievable and melted in your mouth (must be that French butter). I just couldn’t eat all the food. I thought the French always had small portions, but not here at Le Yaca.
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Yes, the butter was yummy and the sauces, so rich. Ooh la la!
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